Wr2feathbr

A RELUCTANT INVESTOR'S LAMENT

 

I would like to share with you the following poem which most of us have

 experienced in life.  After reading the following poem, think of yourself, your friends, your family, and neighbors and think how accurately this applies to you and them.  YOU ARE ALL  REALLY IN CONTROL OF YOUR DESTINIES.

 

I hesitate to make a list

Of all the countless deals I've missed;

Bonanzas that were in my grip - -

I watched them through my fingers slip;

 

The windfalls which I should have brought

Were lost because I over thought;

I thought of this, I thought of that,

I could have sworn I smelled a rat,

and while I thought things over twice,

Another grabbed them at the price.

 

It seems I always hesitate,

then make my mind up much too late.

A very cautious man am I, 

And that is why I never buy.

 

When tracks rose high on Sixth and Third, 

The price asked, I felt, was absurd;

Those block fronts - - bleak and black with soot

Were priced at thirty bucks as foot !

 

I wouldn't even make a bid,

But others did - - yes, others did !

 

When Tucson was cheap desert land,

I could have had a heap of sand;

When Phoenix was the place to buy,

I thought the climate was too dry;

 

"Invest in Dallas - - that's the spot !"

My sixth sense warned me I should not.

And that is why I never buy.

 

How Nassau and How Suffolk grew !

North Jersey !  Staten Island, too !

When  others culled those sprawling farms

And welcomed deals with open arms . . .

A corner here, ten acres there,

 

Compounding values year by year,

I chose to think and as I thought,

They brought the deals I should have brought.

 

The golden chances I had then

Are lost and will not come again.

 

Today I cannot be enticed

For everything's so overpriced.

 

The deals of yesteryear are dead;

The market's soft - - and so's my head.

 

Last night I had a fearful dream,

I know I wakened with a scream;

Some Indians approached my bed - -

 

For trinkets on the barrel head

(in dollar bills worth twenty-four

And nothing less and nothing more)

They'd sell Manhattan Isle to me.

 

The most I'd go was twenty-three.

The red men scowled; "Not on a bet !"

And sold to Peter Minuit.

 

At times a teardrop drowns my eye

For deals I had, but did not buy;

And now life's saddest words I pen - -

 

"IF ONLY I'D INVESTED THEN !"

 

             Reproduced from “The Reluctant Investor and Other Light Verse”                                                   Copyright 1977.  Author: Donald M. Weill

 

GO TO INVESTOR'S PORTFOLIO

mallard_sun_lg_clr

BACK

WEB DESIGN

tmlips